


Deposed: A Series of Maxwil Fanfictions

by orphan_account



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, don't you guys worry this is only fluff and angst, sometimes but not always
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-14 13:57:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9184741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Maxwell won't admit it but... Wilson is kinda cute.





	1. Smile for Me

  
_Smile for Me -_ In which Wilson does not make an immediate rebound after the new reign.

* * *

Maxwell only saw Wilson projecting himself once during his reign, and from what he could tell, he wasn't doing so good on the throne.

The sun had just begun to set, and the pink sky dotted with clouds hung above him like a curse. A few days before, Maxwell had begun to trek south, as his camp had been overrun by some rather... eager Beefalo. It was during these times that he'd rather listen to the sounds around him than be able to see. The crunching of he feet against dry leaves, the crickets composing their first melodies of the evening, a bird happily tweeting by and... crying?

Now Maxwell's eyes were open, because he could _definitely_ hear someone crying. And nearby, too. In fact, it almost sounded like...

"Higgsbury?"

The figure slouched behind the tree jolted with surprise hearing Maxwell's voice. Goodness, did Wilson look different. What a distinguished suit he was wearing, black overcoat and pants with the striped undershirt and red tie. Not to mention to shadows flickering from his body and disappearing. He would have looked absolutely terrifying if he himself wasn't afraid.

"C-Carter, I-" Wilson stammered, before he stopped himself. Then, before Maxwell could really process what had happened, the king's form was falling apart and just like that, he was gone.

Seeing a new ruler like that was nothing, almost common. That wasn't what concerned Maxwell. What concerned him was that Wilson, that silly scientist, knew who William Carter was. If They were willing to tell him that much, then any matter of information could have been passed along. And that included what exactly was and wasn't sentient on the islands, which worried Maxwell to no end.

But time had passed since then, quite a significant amount, and nothing ever came of it.

Until Wilson arrived back on the islands, human.

Honestly, it shouldn't have been that... distressing. There were countless other survivors scattered among the islands, and a few of them could hardly be called idiots. It wouldn't be hard to say that one of them had created a Divining Rod and found the throne, but the state that he found Wilson in was not what Maxwell had expected for a simple freedom. 

Pale-looking and unconscious. Just staring at him, Maxwell got the impression that he wouldn't awaken for a long time. His forehead was hot to the touch, but the rest of him seemed cold.

Now, Maxwell wasn't really one to take pity. That had been more of a William thing, and he hadn't exactly been William for a long time. But as he brought Wilson back to his camp, he began to think that perhaps there still was something left of his old self, deep down. As frightening a thought it was, it didn't seem that bad an idea.

Considering the unknown amount of time he was asleep before Maxwell found him, Wilson was out for at least three days. The sun had just risen, but it was a cloudy, gray day. The charred scent of the fire from the night before was beginning to fade. Maxwell had just finished searching through his last chest and sighed. He was out of flint. As he began to brainstorm possible places to search, he heard rustling from the straw roll Wilson was laying on.

He turned just in time to see Wilson attempting to sit up. 

"Easy there Higgsbury," Maxwell chided from a distance. "You've been sleeping for a while."

When Wilson saw him, he was even more confused. "Maxwell?"

"Yes?"

For a moment, Wilson was quiet. He lightly shook his head. "Why am I here?"

Maxwell leaned against one of the chests and smirked. "Well I'm guessing someone freed you from the throne." He shrugged. "I found you passed out in the woods a few days ago and brought you here."

"I meant why did you bring me to your camp," Wilson rephrased firmly. "It's just, after everything that happened..."

"I guess-" Maxwell shook his head "-I felt some sympathy for you." 

He pretended not to see Wilson's eyes light up at that. Instead, he interjected with, "So who's on the throne now?"

Wilson crossed his arms. "I don't know. Some lady, she looked like a shadow, came and got the throne to let go of me." Upon hearing this, Maxwell became worried. He moved over and sat next to Wilson. "What then?"

"She...took the throne's power away, I think." Wilson shuddered. "It hurt a lot."

The way Wilson was hunched over was hard to watch. He held his knees and stared at the ground, like he lost in thought. And Maxwell... he didn't want to see Wilson feeling this anymore. This... pain, was it?

"You can stay here."

Wilson blinked in surprise, so Maxwell continued. "You don't have a place of your own. I won't just let you go out and die."

"Maxwell? Thank you."

There was nothing better than the smile that Wilson had on his face right now, and for the first time in what felt like ages, Maxwell felt himself smiling too.


	2. What We Can't Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilson has some regrets.

On that morning, Wilson really shouldn't have been surprised that he was waking up alone.

The cold air nipped at him as he sat up and faced the odd quiet. In the back of his mind, he was vaguely aware of the tasks he'd have to accomplish before winter, but that was tossed aside by a startling realization.

Maxwell wasn't there.

Usually, whenever one awoke before the other, they waited and did some small bits of work until both were able to head out.

East, right now, was their direction. About a week ago, they'd notice some telltale signs of other survivors, and had been following the dead tree stumps and plucked berry bushes hoping to meet with another group.

In fact, that was the time when Maxwell had begun acting strange. It was almost like he was becoming the Maxwell that Wilson knew when they first began surviving together. Distant, hesitant, almost afraid. It shouldn't have been so shocking that he'd...

...leave. Like that.

Maxwell had never really been good with emotions, so maybe it was for the best he wasn't there? That Wilson was never able to tell him about his? Maxwell, surely, would not have reacted well to that.

Not that he was reacting well to their current situation either, judging by the note Wilson found beside him that morning. Though the man was pretty smart, Wilson had to admit at times, Maxwell could be a complete and utter idiot when he wanted to be.

_Higgbury,_

_This is too much for me, and I am sorry. Over these past few days, as we've been following this trail, I've come to the conclusion that I am not yet ready to face my mistakes like I was with you._

_Just know that being with you these past few months has been a pleasure beyond description, and that when we met, I never had the intentions of leaving like I am now._

_I hope that, when I am able to come to terms with what I've done, you will be there for me._

_-Maxwell (or might it be William now? I am still considering that, you must give me your opinion next time we meet)_

Wilson felt like something inside of him was being torn apart, but he tried his best to keep it in. Because he and Max- William. He and William were never going to be. Not anymore.

Not yet, at least.

"I will," he said under his breath as tears began to well up. "William, I swear, when you're back again, I will always be there for you."

And he packed what was left, folded the tear-stained letter into his pocket, and kept going east.


End file.
